


(Not) Faust

by HiMiTSu



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Literary References, M/M, kinda character study - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 10:35:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4743152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiMiTSu/pseuds/HiMiTSu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is not Hannibal's creation. It's important that they both understand it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Not) Faust

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually inspired by an aria from opera Faust. It's a very popular peice, which actually had been used in the tv show. It also is the music that is mentioned in the beginning. It's called "Le veau d’or est toujours". If you are interested you can listen to it here:  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oYZa2sm6E40
> 
> Just a small fic, following up on an idea I had and practicing writing dialogue between those two. (Because it can be soooo hard)

Hannibal calls him “My Faust” one day and it doesn’t sit well with Will; hard to pinpoint at first, what exactly makes him ill to his gut when he hears this. The phrase irks, a mere annoyance gaining momentum and turning into something bigger.

It’s such a peaceful moment with Hannibal sitting behind a large desk, concentrated on a sketch, his pencil drawing lines with special precision and care. Will is in a chair across, from time to time reluctantly tearing himself away from the book to keep up with the conversation. There is classical music playing in the background – one of Hannibal’s favorite pieces is what inspires the comment in the first place.

Impassive is a word Will lives by these days, which means there is very little to betray his reaction but Hannibal sees it anyway.

“Are you unhappy with such comparison?”

Will’s eyes stare at the page blankly, as he replies. “Not particularly.” There is something unsettling in that and while his mind supplies an answer he doesn’t want to voice, a building irritation insists on being spilled.

There is a moment of silence disturbed by soft rustling of papers as Hannibal puts away the unfinished sketch and leans forward in his seat, full focus of his attention on Will. There is no subtly avoiding his gaze now – Will doesn’t even try.

“I am sorry if the comment offended you. It was mostly affected by the mood.”

“The music.” Will states; the reply is quick to fall from his tongue and thus gives much away.

It’s not a question but Hannibal nods. “Yes, the music.” There is a grin hiding behind his calm exterior, teasing the corners of his lips.

Will holds his gaze, feeling the weight of this conversation more strongly than his partner, and closes his book with a snap. There is amusement in Hannibal’s warm eyes, curiosity adding its own shade, but Will is not inclined to play along.

“I am not your creation,” he says slowly, enunciating every word. The music roars in the background and Hannibal stares back unblinking. This moment, suspended between them is charged and heavy, Will searching Hannibal’s features for a reaction, and the other simply lying in wait. “Not your Faust.” Will stresses with a shake of his head.

“I can accept that.”

“I don’t want you to accept that,” Will retorts harshly. “I need you to see that.”

Hannibal’s eyebrow lift in surprise, but his posture relaxes as he leans back in the chair, still with the air of infinite calm. The song grows to a close, intense even at its ending and morphs into another melody, slow and tortuous start of which is a bittersweet accompaniment.

“You are not my creation,” is what Hannibal finally says, a question in his eyes. Is he unsure in his words or the fact that he has to say them at all?

“You did not make me what I am today.” Will states still in the same tone. It is important that Hannibal know this. He might have lowered Will’s inhibitions, discovered this side of him and dragged it into the open, but he was not responsible for the darkness in Will; it was Will’s and Will’s only.

Hannibal nodded as his features relaxed into a smile. “I know that. You are very special Will and I’d never take this away from you.”

“Good.” Will cuts off and opens the book in his lap, done with the conversation.

Hannibal observes him from across the desk with a fond smile and then, unable to stay away for long, walks up to press a soft kiss to Will’s dark curls.

“Not my Faust, huh?” He mutters with a smirk.

Will glances up at him, no trace of previous severity, just exasperation in his eyes. “Not your Galatea either.”

Hannibal laughs as he turns to change the music to something more cheerful.


End file.
